


Reckless

by KMDWriterGrl



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 18:52:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1789537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KMDWriterGrl/pseuds/KMDWriterGrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A post-ep for "Scientific Method." After the alien scientists are driven off the ship, Janeway ponders Tuvok's comment that she is a reckless individual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reckless

Janeway returned to her Ready Room, leaving the Bridge to Tuvok after repeated promises that, yes, she would go to Sickbay to have the alien implants removed. They both knew damn good and well that she would only go after the rest of the crew had gone, but it was also understood that he would insist and she would defer.

She checked in with Torres and Kim periodically about the damage to her ship and felt vaguely regretful that her decision to take the ship into the pulsar was causing such a headache for her extremely tired and injured crew.

She didn’t leave the Ready Room to check on Chakotay, though she badly wanted to—he wouldn’t want to be seen in his current state. She did call him on the comm and was happy to hear that he sounded like himself. He questioned her closely about the final confrontation with the alien “scientist” (“butcher” Janeway corrected him hotly) and made her laugh when he admitted to panicking at the sight of the white-hot pulsar outside his window. She promised to check in on him later after the Doctor had reversed his condition and then closed the comm channel.

Her head was still throbbing. She drank a cup of herbal tea (one of the blends Chakotay had programmed into her replicator) then took the further step of prescribing herself a hypospray of neurasthenic inhibitor, something she rarely did because she didn’t believe in self-medication. It was just when she was starting to feel physically ill from the pain and was considering cutting in line at Sickbay that the chime to her Ready Room door announced the arrival of both Tuvok and the Doctor.

“I hadn’t yet seen you, Captain,” the Doctor said reproachfully. “So I took it upon myself to make a house call.”

“And who’s working in Sickbay?” Janeway asked, just as reproachfully.

“Seven of Nine and Mr. Paris,” he replied promptly. “They’ve both been valuable assets.”

Janeway nodded, giving in. “Please, Doctor, take care of whatever is causing this headache.”

The Doctor gestured to Tuvok, who was holding the modified hyperspanner that had been calibrated to reveal the alien’s implants. The Vulcan crossed to her side and shone the thin bluish beam at her temples.

She knew that whatever was implanted in her skin was horrifying when she saw Tuvok’s fingers tighten on the hyperspanner. She was even more unnerved when the Doctor murmured, “Oh my.”

Janeway lifted her hand to touch her temples but was blocked by Tuvok’s fingers closing gently around her wrist. “I would advise against that, Captain,” he said, his eyes telegraphing concern and sympathy. “Other pieces of the alien technology have caused injury to those crewmen trying to remove it on their own. It is a much better idea to let the Doctor handle it.”

“What is it doing to me?” she asked, more than a little unnerved at the men’s reactions.

“I respectfully decline to answer, Captain, until I’ve removed all of this hardware,” the Doctor replied distractedly, circling her and peering at the device. “If I remove this from the base of the skull first, perhaps the other pieces will loosen,” he said almost to himself.

“I’m going to have to insist that one of you tell me what you’re removing from me,” she blurted, shaken by the partial description.

“There is a thick metal collar encircling the base of your skull with needles of multiple gauges piercing your skin all the way up to your temples,” Tuvok reported, trying for a tone of matter-of-fact calm. “A series of interconnected plates runs the length of your neck and is fused to a crossbar that connects to plates on each of your shoulder blades.” At Janeway’s involuntary shudder, he replied, “Looking at these pieces of equipment, I can understand why you have been short-tempered of late.”

Hearing it described in all its sadistic glory made her feel like panicking, though she knew it would do her no good to do so.  Her hand rose of its own volition as morbid curiosity encouraged her to touch the instruments which had been torturing her for so long … but she fought the urge and lowered her hands to her sides. Tuvok nodded approvingly. Janeway nodded back with a calm she didn’t feel and blew out a controlled breath.

“I’m going to start with the needles at the base of the skull,” the Doctor announced as he began making adjustments to the alien hardware. “That seems to be the piece holding it all together.”

There was the unsettling sensation of something being unscrewed from her neck and a flare of pain blossomed inside her head. She jerked in shock and more pain slalomed its way to her temples.

“Tuvok, hold her still,” the Doctor snapped, forgetting apparently that Janeway was perfectly capable of hearing and obeying an order. She allowed Tuvok to place calming hands on her shoulders to keep her from moving as the Doctor worked and was, in fact, comforted by his presence.

“What about you?” she asked her second officer. “Any alien devices on your person?”

“Thankfully, no,” the staid Vulcan replied. “I have been unaffected thus far.” His fingers sank a bare millimeter deeper into her shoulders when an audible sound came from the alien apparatus, accompanied by a curse from the Doctor. Janeway had to keep from jumping and focused instead on her friend’s taciturn features.

“How many of the crew has implants?” she asked.

“The number continues to grow,” Tuvok reported. “At the moment it appears to be about 75% of the crew.”

“What about Naomi?” she asked, anxious that the young girl have been spared harm.

“She is unaffected,” Tuvok reported, only the tiniest movement at the corner of his mouth telegraphing his relief at that fact. She forgot sometimes that he was a parent and thus shared the same concern for Naomi’s well-being that she did.

A pressure she hadn’t been aware of lifted from the base of her skull and the length of her neck. She gasped out a surprised breath and her hand rose reflexively to touch the affected areas.

“Remain still,” Tuvok reminded her with calm patience. “Doctor, how are you faring?”

“There are still clusters of needles in her temples. And then there’s the base of the entire instrument, which looks to be surgically attached to her back. I’m going to take it apart in pieces. I can do this right here if you wish, or we can proceed to Sickbay.”” He ran the tricorder over Janeway and frowned. “Your blood pressure and pulse are a bit too high for my taste. Perhaps Sickbay would be the better option.”

“Doctor, if we can do this here, in private, I would much prefer that. I don’t want to interrupt Tom or Seven’s rhythm by walking into Sickbay and, I’m sure, a shuttle-load of questions from the crew.”

 “Very well,” the Doctor replied. “I’ll need to get one of the collapsible bio-beds from storage so that I have a sturdy work surface. I also want to monitor your vital signs and, if necessary, place you on a systemic monitor. I’ll retrieve those supplies and return shortly.” He blinked out of existence, leaving Janeway and her second officer alone.

Tuvok removed his hands from Janeway’s shoulders and took the cold cup of tea to the replicator, where he requested a Vulcan blend instead. He brought Janeway the new cup and sat down next to her as she sipped.

“T’ilyria tea?” she asked, naming a mildly sweet herb reminiscent of peppermint which also had sedative properties.

“Correct. I imagine that the Doctor will relieve you of duty after he has completed this microsurgery … and if he does not, I will do so. This will help you relax enough to sleep.” He raised an eyebrow-- the Vulcan equivalent of a wry half-smile. “It should lower your vascular pressure enough to keep the Doctor from fitting you with a systemic monitor as well.”

Janeway gave him a small smile. “You’re a good friend to me, Tuvok.” She started to lean against the cushions but, still conscious of the equipment implanted in her back, decided against it. “And I’m not letting you forget about your promise to join me for some wine in Sienna when this is all over.”

“I look forward to it,” he replied. “Have you spoken to Commander Chakotay?”

“About an hour ago. He’s looking forward to being his own age again.” She twisted her neck, stretching it, noticing that her normal range of motion was coming back. “When you make the duty rosters for your department, make sure you grant your teams extended R&R. I imagine we’re going to need a few days to get back to peak efficiency. I’ll mention the same thing to Chakotay.”

Tuvok nodded. “Understood, Captain.” He studied her for a moment. “Is there something else?”

Janeway smiled, amazed at how well her friend could read her, even when she tried for an inexpressive countenance. “Yes, there is. I was wondering …” She thought for a moment about how to phrase what she wanted to say. “You would have had good reason to countermand my orders just a few short hours ago, Tuvok. Ordering the ship into the center of a pulsar was not, clearly, the most logical thing I could have done… it was, as you said, reckless and dangerous. But you allowed me to do it.” She searched his inscrutable face for an answer. “Why?”

Tuvok thought before answering. “While it was a reckless action, there was, actually, logic in it.”

Janeway laughed harshly. “Please enlighten me then! The longer I think about it the more I can’t believe I actually did it.”

“There was no way the alien scientist—“

“Butcher,” she interrupted, fuming.

“Whichever term you prefer,” Tuvok continued, nonplussed by her interruption. “There was no form of argumentation or appeal to ethics which would force her to terminate her experiments. The only recourse left to you was a show of force, even one that was so obviously extreme. You demonstrated the lengths to which she had driven you with her experimentation; that is not a demonstration she will easily forget.”

“I could have killed everyone on board by taking the ship into that pulsar,” Janeway reminded him.

“Indeed. However, this crew faces death every day, whether it is at the hands of the Borg, the Hirogen, or even a natural phenomenon like a pulsar. This was, as Mr. Paris would no doubt phrase it, relatively ‘small potatoes.’”

Janeway smiled. “And you actually had enough time to think that through before consciously deciding not to countermand the orders that might have destroyed this ship and everyone on it?”

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. “Not at all. I did not countermand your orders because I trust your judgment.”

Janeway let out a long, slow breath that was the closest to the sigh of relief she’d allow herself. “I wonder if that isn’t a bit illogical on your part,” she said with a chuckle and an affectionate smile. “But I appreciate that … more than you can know.”

The Doctor appeared in the Ready Room with his med kit. A collapsible biobed shimmered into existence next to him, beamed from the cargo bay.

“Sorry to take so long,” the Doctor apologized. “Mr. Neelix has been rearranging the cargo bays again and I couldn’t find my biobeds.” He began assembling the cumbersome looking object.

Tuvok rose to assist him, then, once finished, helped Janeway climb onto the biobed where she lay face-down, waiting for the Doctor to start extracting the alien implants from her back.

The Doctor ran the tricorder over her and nodded, apparently pleased by the results. “You seem much calmer now. Your blood pressure and heart rate are back within normal levels. Perhaps Mr. Tuvok should think about taking on the post of ship’s counselor.”

“I think counseling one reckless captain is about all we can safely ask of him, Doctor,” Janeway quipped.

She raised her head just enough to look for her second officer. He was standing on the opposite side of the biobed from the Doctor, his hand resting within an easy distance of hers. She moved a fraction of an inch closer, just enough that it could be mistaken for shifting into a more comfortable position, and let her fingers fleetingly touch his, seeking reassurance from her stalwart friend.

She smiled when his fingers very deliberately brushed back.

END


End file.
